


Dirty Clothing

by Cake_isnt_pie_sam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Clothing Kink, Clothing swap, Incest, M/M, Scent Kink, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cake_isnt_pie_sam/pseuds/Cake_isnt_pie_sam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean have always shared clothes. Some things are off limits, though. So when Dean puts on his favorite AC/DC shirt one day and there's a giant-ass cum stain on it, he already knows who to blame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Clothing

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't own the boys, their clothing, or Supernatural. Comments appreciated.)

Sam and Dean have always shared clothes. Ever since they were kids, they'd pass clothes back and forth and eventually, neither of them could tell whose clothes where whose. Now, even at twenty-five, Sam and Dean pull shirts from their bags and if they're clean, then hell, put it on.  
Of course, sometimes Dean decides a t-shirt is off limits and Sam just rolls his eyes and throws it back in the duffel, picking something else.

Dean's AC/DC t-shirt is one of those off-limits shirts and he's told Sam again and again. So when he pulls it over his head, he already knows who to blame the giant-ass cum stain on.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yells from the bathroom, once he goes to look in the mirror. Sam looks up from his laptop as Dean strides back out, eyebrow raised dangerously high.

Before Dean can even accuse him of anything, Sam immediately remembers that he forgot to wash Dean's AC/DC shirt the last time he wore it. To be fair though, it wasn't clean when _he_ wore it either, but it definitely did not have that stain on it when he put it on. Whoops.

"Sam I swear to God, if you wore this shirt while fucking some--"

"Dean! No! I uh," he fumbles through his words, standing and closing his laptop. He puts his hands up in surrender, the look on his brother's face clearly threatening. He backs up as Dean takes another step forward.

"No? Then what the fuck is this, Sam?" Dean gestures with his whole hand at the stain right in the middle of the shirt.

"I can explain, I uh," he shakes his head, keeping eye contact, even though his face is bright red. He quickly darts his hand out to grab Dean's keys off the desk, throwing the door open and calling a quick. "I'll make it up to you!" as the motel door slams behind him.

Dean takes a few quick steps forward, but doesn't want to bother wasting the energy chasing his brother to the car. Sam's faster anyway.

#

Reaching the car, Sam gets in and starts it. He shakes his head, heart pounding. Of course he didn't sleep with some girl while wearing Dean's t-shirt. It smells too much like--Dean. He wouldn't be able to concentrate. He just ran out of clean clothes and, well, borrowed Dean's so he could do laundry one day. He didn't end up _doing_ any laundry through, because the second he put the shirt on, he realized that the shirt had been already worn by Dean. And so it _smelled_ like Dean. And well...it made him think of Dean. Okay, so maybe he got a little carried away while doing so and uh, yeah. Yeah, he can't tell Dean he thought about his brother while jerking it in Dean's shirt, nonetheless--Dean's _favorite_ shirt-- and splattering cum all over it. Nope.

After reaching the store, Sam parks, sighing. He decides that Dean needs to know that he wasn't with some girl while wearing his shirt. He picks up the phone and dials his brother.

#

Meanwhile, Dean drops into a chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can't believe Sam fucked some chick while wearing his shirt. He slaps his hand down on the desk, shaking his head. He vaguely wonders if maybe it's someone else's jizz. He shudders, about to take the damned shirt off when his phone buzzes in his pocked. Sam.

"What," he growls into the phone. After about ten seconds of silence and the sound of keys jingling, Dean rolls his eyes, annoyed. "What, Sam."

"I didn't sleep with some chick in your shirt," Sam says quickly. "It was me. It was an accident." _Click._

Dean looks at his phone, Sam's name flickering off the screen. The kid actually hung up on him. He's angrily pressing buttons on his phone and before he can hit send, the words actually set in. _Oh._

All the anger and irritation melts from his body and suddenly he's feeling very warm. He looks down at the shirt again, seeing it entirely different. So Sam...was wearing his shirt while Dean was gone. All of a sudden, he's hyper-aware of the smell of Sam's cologne on the shirt. And well, the thought of a very horny Sam wearing his shirt, doing very explicit things make Dean think _very_ non-brotherly thoughts. And before Dean can even think twice, he's laying back on the bed, hand jammed down his pants as he growls out Sam's name.

#

When Sam meekly opens the motel door nearly an hour after the whole ordeal, he peeks inside with a whole pie in his hand, waiting for a potentially pissed Dean Winchester to be throwing something or yelling about ruining his favorite shirt.

Instead, he sees Dean laying back on the bed in only boxers and the t-shirt, a suspiciously new stain added to it, just a little lower than the first. His eyes scan Dean's face, who isn't even _trying_ to hold a poker face. Instead, the corner of his lips perk up in a cocky grin.


End file.
